Who Spiked the Punch?
by Rune1
Summary: What were to happen if our Padawan's drink was spiked instead of Qui-Gon's? ...chaos, of course. note: some slash involved


  
"WHO SPIKED THE PUNCH?"  
By Jedi Rune  
  
[author's note: This story is admittedly a bit wilder than the last and has material that may offend some readers. There is also some possible slash- interpret the scene as you wish- so be warned.]  
*Note: the song "I'm Too Sexy" is by Right Said Fred  
Disclaimer: again, just borrowing from George Lucas.  
No Jedi Masters and their Padawans were harmed or drugged in the making of this story. At least, not really...  
  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn scanned the bar with his eyes, carefully noting each being in the room. "One can never be too careful," he sighed to himself. Truly, he wished that times were better; always having to watch his back had taken its toll on the older Jedi Master. Sometimes he yearned for the time when he was young and innocent, oblivious to the ills of the galaxy. As a Jedi, though, it was his duty to face them.  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi followed Qui-Gon to a table, just as alert as his Master.  
  
A waiter glided over to take their order.  
  
"I'll just be having water, thank you," Qui-Gon said softly. He relaxed back into his chair, but still watched the activity in the bar with attention.  
  
"Jurinium Punch," Obi-Wan said with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice. "Jurinium Punch?"  
  
Obi-Wan laughed easily. "It's a new drink I wanted to try."  
  
Qui-Gon shrugged and went back to scanning the crowd. He always felt slightly uncomfortable in a packed room of dancing, drunken patrons. He was especially dreading the Karaoke Hour, which was, according to the sign hanging outside the entrance, in five minutes. He hoped that he and Obi-Wan could be far away from the bar by that time. They had only stopped in, after all, to get a refreshing drink or two before returning to the Jedi Temple. Their mission had been long and hard; both were eager to return to the comfort and peace of their quarters.  
  
The bartender set down their drinks carefully.  
  
Obi-Wan grabbed his own with a smile and took a long draught. He smacked his lips. "Mmm, the guys were right, this is great!"  
  
Qui-Gon sighed and chuckled. His Padawan was irrepressible. He raised his glass to his lips and was about to drink when Obi-Wan's body jerked spasmodically. Qui-Gon dropped his cup and turned to his apprentice in concern. He could feel Obi-Wan's confusion and slight discomfort through their link.  
  
"Padawan?" he asked.  
  
Obi-Wan had put his head down on the table and his shoulders were shaking.  
  
Qui-Gon put a calming hand on his apprentice's back and tried to use the Force to quiet his student. "Are you alright?"  
  
"The drink," Obi-Wan said in a muffled voice. "I think that the drink..." He paused and began to giggle. "Hey, Master, didja know that rhymed?" He hiccuped and then giggled some more.  
  
Qui-Gon was now becoming very concerned. He could sense nothing through their bond but massive confusion and skidding, random thoughts. He felt his Padawan's mind surrounded in a sort of cloud, similar to inebriation, but definitely the result of being drugged.  
  
"Obi-Wan, I'll be right back," he said grimly. "Stay here. I'm going to find out what that bartender put in your drink."  
  
"Yessir, Master, s-sir!" Obi-Wan shouted, sitting up and saluting. "Right here, I will stay now right, yes...no, left...no, up up and away. That's right!... Right?"  
  
Qui-Gon eyed his giggling Padawan in concern before leaving for the backroom.  
  
The bartender had his back to the entrance. He yelped when a voice spoke coolly, but threateningly in its evenness, from behind his left ear. "What did you put in my young friend's drink?" Qui-Gon didn't think it necessary for the bartender to know Obi-Wan was his student.  
  
"Nothing! I swear!" The bartender gulped in fear, now facing Qui-Gon. He backed away until his back hit the shelves.  
  
Qui-Gon remained outwardly calm and collected, yet he allowed some of his anger over what had been done to his Padawan burn in his eyes. "Do you have any idea of what drug was used and if it will have any long term effects?"  
  
"No! I have no idea what you're talking about." The bartender was wringing his hands. "Please, sir, logically, why would I want to mess with Jedi? I'm not that stupid- nobody's that stupid. I made your drinks as requested; I didn't put any drugs in them!!!"  
  
"Does Jurinium Punch usually have side effects on those who drink it?"  
  
"Not that I know of. Please, I promise you... leave me in peace. I have done nothing wrong. I- I have no idea who spiked your friend's drink."  
  
Qui-Gon used the force to ascertain the man's innocence. "Very well. Since you tell the truth, I will do as you ask. However, if you find out who drugged my friend, you will tell me." He waved his hand in the typical Jedi mind trick.  
  
"If I find out who drugged your friend, I will tell you," the man answered obediently.  
  
"Thank you." Qui-Gon turned at a sudden blast of music coming from the outer room.  
  
The bartender nodded shakily and, when the Jedi Master had finally left, slumped to the floor in a fearful heap.  
  
Qui-Gon blinked as he emerged back into the main room. The lights had been turned way up and they flashed and seemed to keep time with the rowdy beat. Qui-Gon sighed. No, it seems he hadn't missed Karaoke Hour after all. All around him, people were howling and dancing; it took quite a bit just to reach the table where he had left Obi-Wan. And unfortunately, that was all he found when he got there: a table.  
  
Just then, over the din of the swaying, rabid crowd, a voice floated breathily:  
  
"I'm too sexy for my luuuv, too sexy for my love...Love's going to le-heeave me..."  
  
Qui-Gon's head snapped towards the center of the stage. Oh no....  
  
He almost dreaded to look.  
  
There, in the middle of the pulsating lights, gripping an old-fashioned microphone and breathing heavily into it as if deprived of sufficient oxygen, sweat streaming from his forehead, was Obi-Wan. He began curling his Padawan braid around his finger coyly. Qui-Gon groaned and put a hand over his eyes. This was not happening...This was definitely *not* happening.  
  
"Oh, I'm too sexy for my shirrrt, too sexy for my shirrt, so sexy it hurts..." the Jedi was moaning, running his own hands over his body.  
  
Qui-Gon wanted to die. No, that was *not* his Padawan up there, touching himself and groaning like a sensual male stripper. It couldn't be his Padawan. "It's the drug," he repeated to himself like a mantra, forcing himself to concentrate on thinking a way out of this horrible situation.  
  
Obi-Wan ripped off his sweaty shirt. The women in the bar screamed and began to jump up and down, their hands reaching out to the Jedi. Obi-Wan twirled the Jedi tunic coyly above his head and then flung it out into the crowd. It landed on his Master's head.  
  
Now, Qui-Gon really wanted to die. He began to think about using his lightsaber on himself or perhaps Force-pushing himself to the next galaxy, but neither seemed to help. He needed to get Obi-Wan off that stage somehow. He grimly plucked the wet tunic off his head and threw it into his bag. Obi-Wan would need it later.  
  
By now, Obi-Wan had worked the crowd into a frenzy. He was strutting up and down the stage, clad only in his pants, swaying his hips and casting inviting, saucy looks over his shrieking audience. Qui-Gon doubted, by the way things were going, that Obi-Wan's pants would remain on his body for long. The coins and credits were beginning to pile up on the stage.  
  
"I'm a model, you know what I mean," the young Padawan was rasping into the microphone with his eyes closed and hands running along the microphone's metal stand. "And I do my little turn on the catwalk, Yeah, on the catwalk on the catwalk, Yeah..." He turned and sashayed across the stage again before coming back to the microphone; once there, he unclasped the hook on his pants and, the pants still thankfully around his waist, began to wiggle his butt. A girl next to Qui-Gon cast her arms skyward and then fainted. "I shake my little tushy on the catwaaaalk..."  
  
"That's it," Qui-Gon grated. He used the Force to clear a path to the stage and grabbed Obi-Wan by the arm. The young Padawan fell from the stage with a squeak, the microphone clanging to the ground, and was dragged along behind his Master. The crowd cried out in anger at the sudden deprivation of their entertainer and tried to surge towards the escaping Jedi. Qui-Gon merely tightened the Force around his path and dragged his protesting, giddy Padawan out the door.  
  
Once outside, Qui-Gon used the Force to bind the bar's door shut. It would hold for at least a little while; more than enough time for he and Obi-Wan to escape.  
  
"Hey, Qui-Gonnie, my man," Obi-Wan was slurring in that same breathy voice, "are you mad at me?"  
  
Qui-Gon tried very hard to remember that his apprentice was under the influences of a drug before speaking. "No, Padawan. It's not your fault that you're acting this way."  
  
Obi-Wan giggled. "Did you like my concert? I was singing to you..."  
  
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Years of concentration and meditation came to his rescue. "We have to get back to the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan," he gently reminded his apprentice. "Maybe they can flush that drug out of your system." He stared pointedly at his Padawan. "And Obi-Wan? Put your pants back on."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled. "That rhymed too, Master. Hey! Want to know something?" Obi-Wan asked innocently as he pulled up his pants, which had begun to fall after he had removed the clasp during his concert.  
  
Qui-Gon looked at his Padawan questioningly.  
  
Obi-Wan stared seriously into his Master's eyes. Then suddenly-"OOOOH....I'm too sexy for my hat, too sexy for my hat what do you think about that? Oh yeah, I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my-"  
  
"PADAWAN!!!" Qui-Gon clamped a hand over Obi-Wan's mouth.  
  
Obi-Wan smiled happily. "Do you like it, Master?" he shyly mumbled into Qui-Gon's hand.  
  
"No!"  
  
Obi-Wan's face fell, but he quickly regained his spirits.  
  
Qui-Gon cautiously removed his hand.  
  
"Master?"  
  
"No more singing now, Obi-Wan." The Jedi Master began leading them towards the Temple.  
  
"No, okay, not now...but I need to tell you something." Obi-Wan was glancing back towards the bar.  
  
"Wait until we get back to the Temple."  
  
"But...the door, it's- I wanna-"  
  
"Not now, Padawan," Qui-Gon said sternly.  
  
Obi-Wan pouted and stuck his tongue out at his Master.  
  
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and counted to ten; he didn't want to do anything rash.  
  
Suddenly, with a loud explosion of noise, the barroom door burst open, spilling rampaging people into the streets. Obi-Wan giggled hysterically. "I told you! I told you! I wanted to open the door, and I told you! I told you!!! I did it! I did it!"  
  
Qui-Gon whirled to find his Padawan in the sudden crowd. But the voice was growing further away as the Jedi Master found himself mobbed by angry bar patrons.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted from beneath the suffocating crowd.  
  
But his Padawan was already too far away to hear his Master's calls.  
  
******************************************  
  
"Owwie!!!" Obi-Wan yelped.  
  
"Hold still, hon, it's almost finished." The slim woman patted Obi-Wan's head reassuringly before continuing her work.  
  
"And you say it'll stay on forever?" Obi-Wan asked eagerly.  
  
"Yes, forever. Now...I know it's a bit too late to ask this, but...are you sure this is what you want?"  
  
"Yes!" the Jedi responded confidently.  
  
"Alright," she sighed, shaking her head. "The customer is always right."  
  
*******************************************  
  
Qui-Gon stormed through the Jedi Temple, a substantial piece of his cloak missing. His hair was a tangled mess and he sported a black eye from the brawl he had had to escape outside of the bar. He was very, very upset.  
  
"Qui-Gon!" a voice came from behind him.  
  
The Jedi Master whirled and came face-to-face with Mace Windu.  
  
"Nice to see you back, old friend!" He paused. "Nice shiner."  
  
"Hello, Mace," Qui-Gon said wearily. Somehow, in the presence of his friend, all of his frustration and adrenaline began to melt away. He felt drained and exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to get Obi-Wan back to his normal self and then nap for the rest of eternity.  
  
"Are you okay?" the dark skinned Jedi asked in concern.  
  
Qui-Gon shook his head. "It's been a very long day. I need to find Obi-Wan. If you see him, try to get him to a healer. He's...not himself."  
  
"What's wrong?" Mace could feel the worry and fatigue exuding from his friend.  
  
"He was drugged earlier tonight. I've been trying to find him ever since."  
  
"I'll keep an eye out for him." Windu sent out through the Force waves of assurance to his friend.  
  
"Thanks, Mace." Qui-Gon smiled tiredly.  
  
"You should get some sleep."  
  
Qui-Gon laughed ruefully. "Oh, believe me, old friend. Once this escapade is over, I intend to take a *long* nap."  
  
Mace chuckled. "Alright, Qui-Gon. Good luck."  
  
The Jedi Master nodded and continued his search.  
  
************************************************  
  
Obi-Wan, meanwhile, was weaving his way back to the Jedi Temple. He had kept his shields up the entire time so that his Master couldn't use the Force to find him. After all, where was the fun in that?  
  
"I'm your honey, duh dum duh duh duhhh," Obi-Wan sang quietly to himself, punctuating each word with a hop. He grinned. Boy, would Master be surprised when he showed him what he'd gotten tonight!  
  
Obi-Wan skipped up the stairs and entered the silent Jedi Temple. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was getting sleepy.  
  
Only half-realizing exactly what he was doing, Obi-Wan found himself in front of Master Yoda's sleeping quarters.  
  
The young man cleared his throat. "Yoda?"  
  
"What do you want?" came the grumpy reply.  
  
Obi-Wan smothered a giggle. "It's Obi-Wan. I need to speak to you."  
  
"Wait you must."  
  
A minute later, Yoda opened the door. He was clad in a bathrobe and water dripped from his pointy ears onto the floor. "Glad I am you returned. Confused I am also that half-naked you are. Now, what do you want?"  
  
Without a word, Obi-Wan whipped out his lightsaber, ignited it, and then brought it whistling over the top of the diminutive Jedi Master's head. A crackling noise filled the air, followed by a strange odor.  
  
Shouting with laughter at his prank, Obi-Wan dashed down the hallway.  
  
Yoda remained in the doorway, his mouth open in shock. This, he had not expected. He hesitantly ran a hand over the top of his head. Nothing. He felt nothing. Obi-Wan had burnt into oblivion the last remnants of his carefully cultivated hair. His hair, Yoda realized miserably, had joined the Force.  
  
Yoda was so pissed off he couldn't even come up with anything wise to say.  
  
He glowered after the escaping Padawan and yelled as he leapt up and down in fury, "Evil spawn of the Dark Side are you!!! Pay you will!!!"  
  
All he heard was a distant laugh as it breezed through the deserted hallway.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Qui-Gon was at his wit's end. He had tried multiple times to use the Force to find his wayward Padawan, but it seemed that Obi-Wan had blocked himself off from his Master's touch. He shrugged into a new Jedi robe, discarding his torn one, and prepared himself to leave the temple. His Padawan was out in the city, somewhere, alone and probably doing something very foolish. Even if it took all night, he was going to bring Obi-Wan back home.  
  
A loud snore caught Qui-Gon's attention.  
  
The Jedi Master turned. He knew that snore.  
  
Qui-Gon laughed quietly in relief as he looked down at the form of his sleeping apprentice, curled up by the Temple entrance. "Oh, Obi-Wan," he said as he gently lifted his Padawan from the cold floor, "what am I going to do with you?"  
  
Obi-Wan shifted in the Jedi Master's arms and a smile crept over his face while he slept.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Qui-Gon lowered Obi-Wan onto his bed. He searched in his Padawan's closet until he found a clean Jedi tunic, then slipped the warm material over his apprentice's head. He stopped in surprise when he saw something on his Padawan's left arm. He squinted and tried to make out what it said. He risked turning up the lights. He carefully read "Jedi kick ass" tattooed in bold letters across Obi-Wan's skin. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. Okaaaay... He finished putting the tunic on his apprentice, all the while shaking his head.  
  
Obi-Wan stirred and opened his eyes. "Master?" he asked softly.  
  
"I'm here, Obi-Wan. We're back in our quarters. Go to sleep, my Padawan." Qui-Gon climbed upon the bed next to Obi-Wan and smoothed back his Padawan's hair. "Rest now."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled drowsily. His Master's soft hand comforted him more than anything else ever could.  
  
Qui-Gon used the Force to dim the lights.  
  
Obi-Wan rolled over to be closer to his Master. "Master Qui-Gon?" he whispered as he snuggled close to his teacher.  
  
"Yes, Padawan?"  
  
"I love you." He laid an arm on his Master's chest and gazed at his handsome face in the growing darkness. He wished he could smooth away all the lines of worry and sadness that he saw in his Master's face.  
  
"I love you, too, Padawan," Qui-Gon said tenderly.  
  
Obi-Wan hesitantly raised himself up and then placed a soft kiss on his Master's lips. Qui-Gon jerked back in surprise. He hadn't expected that to happen; yet, there was a part of him that was glad that his Padawan had done it.  
  
Obi-Wan blinked away a tear then crawled back to his own side of the bed in rejection. "I- I'm sorry, Master. I had no right. Please, forget that just happened." He was crying, tears sliding down his face.  
  
After a moment of thought, Qui-Gon wordlessly slid next to Obi-Wan on the bed. He reached out a trembling hand to touch his Padawan's smooth face. He gently brushed away the tears.  
  
Obi-Wan turned towards his Master in growing hope.  
  
Qui-Gon lay down beside his Padawan and held him, just held him in the darkness. "I love you, Obi-Wan," he whispered.  
  
Obi-Wan melted in the warmth of his Master's arms and began to cry. True, he was still partially under the influence of a drug, yet...this was what he had always hoped for, secretly dreamed about-his Master's true affection. It seemed a dream, unreal and so fragile... Obi-Wan wept that he might wake up and find it all just that: a dream.  
  
Qui-Gon held his sobbing Padawan close. He didn't know what he was feeling-he was certain only that morning would soon come and with it either bittersweet memories for his Padawan or the blank nothingness of a night spent under the influence of a drug.  
  
***********************************************  
  
The sound of the door chiming instantly pulled Obi-Wan out of his deep sleep. He blinked owlishly in the sunlight.  
  
"Who's there?" he mumbled, shoving his head under a pillow and hoping the person would just go away. He had been having a most lovely dream about his Master holding him in his arms, and he wanted to get back to it.  
  
"It's Mace Windu."  
  
Obi-Wan moaned into the pillow. Well, that meant he had to get up, then. "Coming."  
  
The young apprentice walked across to Qui-Gon's room, hoping all the noise hadn't disturbed his Master's sleep. He stopped in surprise. His Master's bed was made and he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Obi-Wan straightened his Jedi tunic and activated the door switch. The doors slid open.  
  
"Morning," Jedi Master Windu said dryly.  
  
"Um...hi." He shuffled his feet nervously; he had never felt quite comfortable around Master Windu, since the Jedi Master probably knew from talking to Qui-Gon more about Obi-Wan than he cared to know. "Where's Master Qui-Gon?"  
  
"Oh, he's talking to Yoda right now." Mace stared disapprovingly at the young apprentice. "After that stunt you pulled last night, I'm amazed Qui-Gon didn't make you go with him. Master Yoda is quite...understandably...upset."  
  
"What?" Obi-Wan was completely confused. What stunt? His memory, in fact, of the entire time since he'd entered that bar with his Master was a complete blank.  
  
Mace sensed the apprentice's utter confusion. "Oh, I see. You don't remember. Must have been that drug Qui-Gon said you had somehow taken. Either way, I doubt it will make much of a difference to Yoda. You did, after all, shave him bald with your lightsaber."  
  
"I DID WHAT?????!!!!"  
  
Mace Windu regarded the panicking apprentice with barely veiled amusement. "Shaved Yoda bald with your lightsaber," he repeated calmly.  
  
Obi-Wan sobbed in despair and fell to the floor. "He's going to kill me...I just know it...I'm doomed..."  
  
Mace smiled cheerfully. "Probably."  
  
"Gee, thanks, Master Windu," Obi-Wan muttered.  
  
"No problem. Well, I will be on my way, then. I don't suppose I have to tell you that Master Yoda wants to have a word with you, do I?"  
  
"No," Obi-Wan moaned pitifully. "I kinda figured he did."  
  
"Then I will bid you good-day." Mace swept back into the hall and turned the corner. The doors slid shut behind him.  
  
Obi-Wan sat on the floor for quite some time before he finally mustered the courage to crawl back to his room. If he was going to see Master Yoda, he'd better be looking his best; Obi-Wan just hoped that by the time Yoda was through with him, there'd still be enough left for the undertaker to identify the body.  
  
Obi-Wan shut the door to the bathroom and put his neatly folded clothes on the corner of the sink. He walked over to the shower and began to run the hot water. He peeled off his clothes and turned to step into the bathtub. But something caught his eye.  
  
Obi-Wan walked back to the mirror and slowly turned, baring his naked buttocks to the reflecting glass. He could only stare at what he saw. There, tattooed very neatly in script was "Master Qui-Gon & Padawan Obi-Wan," followed by a little red heart.  
  
Obi-Wan fell back into the bathtub with a scream of horror.  
  
Somewhere, in a room a few levels up, a small green Jedi Master sat in a chair snickering. Yoda happily whacked Qui-Gon, who had no idea what had just happened, with his gimmer stick and cackled, "Sweet revenge is."  
  
  
  
  



End file.
